


Oceans drifting sideways, I am pulled into the spell

by ScarletSue



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: 12 Days of Carnivale, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-17 18:37:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 5,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16979706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletSue/pseuds/ScarletSue
Summary: a collection of my fics for the 12 days of carnivale event





	1. a special disguise (moonlight is bleeding from out of your soul)

**Author's Note:**

> chapter title from Lazarus by Porcupine Tree

Jopson still couldn’t help but find all of this somehow unnatural. Though maybe someday, the word “lieutenant” directed at him will stop sounding so out of place. He might get used to it and to his new uniform too, seeing how much joy it brought to people close to him, and most of all to his lover.

Edward was so happy when he saw Thomas in it for the first time, and was smiling so brightly that he could probably make the whole arctic ice melt instantly just like this. To him it felt so right, and he’s known for a long time that Jopson was always obviously deserving of the rank.  “And of a portrait made by the hand of the finest painter, that would be even more beautiful than that of James Clark Ross”, he thought to himself while marveling at the view in front of him.

\- Would you look at this, fits absolutely perfectly! - he said, as he touched the fabric on Thomas’s arm.

Jopson smiled, as if this was embarrassing him and then pulled Little in for a deep kiss. And a while later, pinned against the wall and between short, sweet gasps Edward still kept saying

\- God, Thomas, you’re beautiful.

And let himself get lost in the most beautiful sights.


	2. state of grace (all things are apart, all things are a part)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> day 2 prompt: "state of grace"
> 
> Slowly, souls began to appear. Casting a faint glow, but as a whole, no matter how torn they were before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in this chapter's title - another lyric from A Plague of Lighthouse Keepers

Slowly, souls began to appear. Casting a faint glow, but as a whole, no matter how torn they were before. Some drifted away towards the sky instantly, forming something akin to aurora borealis in their joint light.

For once, Henry Collins felt relieved, calm and maybe even happy. He wasn’t really sure if the bliss didn’t come just from the absence of fear and from not being trapped by things real and not real, horrible and not horrible (treasured memories of Billy sometimes would sting too with the cold that got attached to them), but he was glad anyway. He took in his surroundings and started catching glimpses of the others – the gentle comfort of Goodsir’s smile, Bridgens and Peglar embracing each other, Jopson sadly gazing somewhere far away, and Little next to him, looking somehow unsure. Then Jopson brought his hand to Little’s face, as if gently brushing something off it. There was also a reassuring smile and a barely audible whisper (Collins caught only the word “close”).

Suddenly he became aware of a familiar presence. Had they still been down there, on the ice(now they all were but serene light of their souls) he would cry at the sight in front of him. But now the image of Billy Orren, no, his Billy Orren himself and not just a trick of his mind, was all warmth and love. And stronger than the pain of parting way too soon and so drastically, in warmth and love they were joined.


	3. naughty or nice (one golden glance of what should be)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> day 3: “naughty or nice”
> 
> Maybe this time he didn’t plan on drinking there, but coming to Blanky’s pub always gave him a sensation similar to what people feel when they finally come back home. Crozier knew how dear Thomas held this place, and because of this fact, his own sentiment for it started growing too.

Maybe this time he didn’t plan on drinking there, but coming to Blanky’s pub always gave him a sensation similar to what people feel when they finally come back home. Crozier knew how dear Thomas held this place, and because of this fact, his own sentiment for it started growing too.

Even though it probably had no right, since Francis generally disliked hearing the ever-present loud chatter and being surrounded by people who under the influence of the substance became way too enthusiastic.  He might have gotten used to Fitzjames, whose tongue immediately loosened after few sips, but having to endure few more like this at once? Voices not as pleasant and stories a lot of time downright disgusting? Take a drunkard bragging about harassing some poor woman. Oh hell to the no.

(Also, he found it quite amusing that now he recalled the other captain in such a positive light. Calling the sound of his voice pleasant to an ear, or missing his tales? Such a stark contrast between this and their attitudes at the beginning  – not that he wanted that worse state of things to ever be back.)

Back to the appeal of the pub – to Francis, it was definitely in its owner, in their shared conversations over the counter, that had the power to separate him from everything else.  Thomas was of course still able to put his heart into it while having to divide his attention between this and the work. And Francis would just relax, listening to his cheerful laughter. Like this, all other things could be pushed into the background.

At last, he stepped inside.

It wasn’t too crowded at this time of the day, probably no one except for Blanky - Crozier immediately heard his voice – and somebody he has been talking to at the moment. Then, to his surprise, he realized that he recognized the other person too. He paired the sound with the sight and James Fitzjames, who had yet to notice Francis’s presence, was in front of him.

\- …and a great penguin named after him!

\-  Really? A stuffed penguin?

\- And you wouldn’t even believe the whole ordeal that was with those damned animals! Gave poor Ross a worse headache than his own uncle sometimes would.

\- How so?

\- Lots of people in the crew really went out of their way to keep some of those preserved specimens for themselves, running about around the entire ship to avoid being caught. To think that once the exposition settled in Belfast, it came by without much attention.

\- Huh.

\- Well, maybe not really completely without attention. Belfast Newsletter said that “the three thousand visitors to the museum on Easter Monday were more taken by ancient croziers than Crozier’s penguin”.

Fitzjames threw his head back in laughter at that. Francis decided that it was the time he approached them. So he came up to them, while making eye contact with Thomas, who smiled widely. Knowing him, he was probably already aware of Crozier being there, but of course it was highly unlikely that he’d throw away a chance to embarrass even the man he loved, as they had exchanged a playful banter over this exact topic of those oh-so-great penguins before.

\- James! How nice to see you here – said Crozier, clasping his hand on the other captain’s shoulder.

The surprise caused Fitzjames to stumble and almost fall over.

\- Good God, Francis! I, I’m… - he stuttered, with his face reddened, and when he managed to gather himself, added – I’m glad to see you too – he reached out for a handshake, but was met with a tight hug instead. With a smile, he hugged back.

Then Crozier walked up to Blanky and embraced him too. Surrounded by familiar good feelings, he thought that it was truly great to be home.

\- Ah, Thomas – he said, and lightly ran his hand through Blanky’s hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so it's Blanky/Crozier and blink-and-you-miss-it implied future Blanky/Crozier/Fitzjames that I might write more about later cause I didn't like how it came out when I tried to start everything already here
> 
> title from A Kind of Magic by Queen


	4. an unexpected gift (my sunsets fade)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> day 4: “an unexpected gift”
> 
> Maintaining the balance between knowing when the blade was used to end something and when to create an imitation of life (no matter how warped one) was a form of art too. Well, at least to him, as he tried make something reflecting his own life – a soul (if such existed?) fleeting away from the body to the afterlife, or E. C. shedding his skin once again, no difference.

It takes several attempts, until Cornelius finally manages to hold the knife without his hands shaking and have it shape the wood exactly how he wanted it to be. At first he would press too hard on the spot where Christ’s bleeding heart should be while trying to carve the wound on the figurine. Maintaining the balance between knowing when the blade was used to end something and when to create an imitation of life (no matter how warped one) was a form of art too. Well, at least to him, as he tried make something reflecting his own life – a soul (if such existed?) fleeting away from the body to the afterlife, or E. C. shedding his skin once again, no difference. Maybe that’s why after pondering Irving’s suggestions he decided on a cross in the end. As ridiculous as he found them, they still directed his mind onto the tracks leading to trying to capture Messiah’s last breath using the craft that felt like a part of him.

The wood was cold and unfeeling, and as the movement of his hand started to be more swift and delicate, he began to feel like he too had completely bled out. Which here meant a state devoid of pain and anger, both old and familiar and the new one that a while before still stung like a fresh cut. Less fortunately, devoid also of the love he gave away. Knowing that the latter was missing made him wonder, if he’s ever going to try build it up in his heart again.

Just taking his mind off those thing was probably good enough for now.

He put down the cross when it was finished. He had no idea if to keep it in his sea chest or simply leave it laying somewhere, now that the process of creation was over and he wasn’t going to do anything more with it. He put it in his pocket and for some time he forgot about it.

Later, when he was called to take the next watch, on his way there he accidentally bumped into someone. The person in question turned out to be Irving, whose surprise with the collision itself still outweighed being surprised by whom he collided with. Hickey’s mind suddenly flashed back to the cross. He muttered out some quick apologies for not being careful and without thinking for too long he put the figurine in lieutenants hand, before the latter had a chance to properly gather himself. For a while, they looked at each other.

And then Hickey was gone, leaving Irving wondering about what did just happen. The caulker’s mate was quite hard to find later, but finally he managed to approach him.

Hickey, when asked about his work, at first was reluctant to talk, but after a while he decided that this sudden interest was somehow amusing. Days passed, and he got used to his company and thought to himself that maybe Irving, despite his annoying nagging, had genuinely good intentions. This dedication to saving an oh so poor lost soul was funny to him, but Hickey guessed he could accept it. The fact that someone for some weird reason cared wasn’t probably that bad. It was not an outcome he ever intended on, but for once he found himself not being bothered by this fact at all.

Sooner than he could realize, he found himself teaching Irving how to carve. With their hands touching briefly as Hickey showed the other how to hold a knife properly, for the first time in his life it felt like the opposite of drawing the final breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from Islands by King Crimson


	5. a private performance (let this remain)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> day 5: "a private performance"
> 
> "...and he couldn’t help but smile at the realization that Thomas wasn’t so sickly pale anymore and that the spark of energy in his eyes returned."

Coming back to full health after the sickness wrecked your body was one thing, regaining the strength of your spirit was the other. The latter unfortunately could never be guaranteed and Edward Little was afraid, that his own grasp on it wasn’t too firm. When the rescue came, he was way too weary to really feel any joy. Relief, yes, but hardly any enthusiastic happiness.

However, as days passed, he wasn’t deprived of small moments when he could slowly start to feel alive again. Which mostly happened at Jopson’s bedside, where he watched as his lover recovered, and couldn’t help but smile at the realization that Thomas wasn’t so sickly pale anymore and that the spark of energy in his eyes returned.

Edward was there as often as he could, and one time accidentally he found himself asleep with his head down on Jopson’s bed and a blanket wrapped around him, most likely by Crozier who came inside while he was dozing off, and was now talking with Thomas. Since he started feeling well enough to sit upright on his cot, Jopson predictably came to conclusion that he should try to help around now, but naturally the captain was having none of it and made sure he kept on resting. Little thought that this small circle of theirs could be another thing he could take comfort in – it was different than his family back at home, but he didn’t love the newfound one any less.

He observed how the others spent the time given them until everyone would be able to move. Bridgens and Peglar, side by side, whispered to each other over an open journal. Le Vesconte was singing quietly to captain Fitzjames, who still had yet to fully regain consciousness after his wounds were taken care of. Little himself didn’t have any book to bring to Jopson, but sometimes he would hum a quiet tune. Thomas asked him for something more than just this “sweet melody”, as he called it, but Edward just brushed it off with an embarrassed smile, no matter how much his partner was insisting on it.

* * *

 

\- What are you thinking about? – asked Little one time, when Jopson was propped up against him and absent-mindedly tracing invisible patterns on his arm.

\- Oh? Hmm, it’s just that, I just remembered it would be my birthday today – Jopson said, like it was some unimportant fact that he was stating.

Little looked at him, surprised, and then smiled broadly and turned to hug him.

\- My dearest, happy birthday. I’m sorry that I don’t have anything for you now, but – he said, but was cut off by Jopson, who gently grabbed the back of his head and guided him in for a kiss.

Later, they embraced each other again. After a while Edward spoke:

\- I have an idea. Could you take my hand in yours? All right. Wait, a bit differently. Yes, like this.

\- Edward, this looks quite ridiculous.

\- Oh, come on.

It did look kind of ridiculous, both of them holding each other while sitting, and rocking back and forth slowly.

\- Could you please explain, what are we doing now?

\- Why, dancing.

\- You have a really interesting idea about what dancing is.

\- Do you mind?

Thomas laughed.

\- No, not really.

Edward decided, that once they’re back in England, he needs to make sure they’ll find time to do the whole thing properly. He already could imagine both of them lost in the music, and in each other. He thought of how beautiful Thomas would look, especially after he’ll be given his lieutenant’s uniform, and smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the title from Sirens by Pearl Jam


	6. fire and ice (set the conrols for the heart of the sun)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> day 6: "fire and ice"
> 
> The closest thing Fitzjames could come up with right now was a comparison to witnessing the most breathtaking force of nature, likened to masses of ice cold water shaking a ship during a storm.

Fitzjames wasn’t completely sure how to describe the feelings this conversation had left him with. The closest thing he could come up with right now was a comparison to witnessing the most breathtaking force of nature, likened to masses of ice cold water shaking a ship during a storm.

But somehow he had also found it steadying in its destructiveness – like a push forward, that also let a new light to be shed on some things, which ultimately led him to a kind of a fascination by what he has come to realize.

In Thomas Blanky he saw someone who would not hesitate to take action, and there had been plenty of proof for this, even before they spoke together. The new image of the ice master that Fitzjames had in his mind consisted not only of laughing in death’s face, but also of deadly silence that enveloped even more deadly intentions. He felt incredibly drawn to that, as both could be found in Blanky’s eyes, also reflected in the steady composure and the atmosphere brought to the room by the story.

Despite the fact that at first a shiver unrelated to arctic conditions ran through him, now Fitzjames felt as if the temperature went up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title - from Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun by Pink Floyd


	7. sledge ride (a million bright ambassadors of morning)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> day 7: "sledge ride"
> 
> Sometimes James dreams of laying atop the boat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title - Echoes by Pink Floyd

Sometimes James dreams of laying atop the boat. It is being hauled across a rough surface, which increases his already horrible pain. He can’t turn his head to see anything other than the arctic sky. He isn’t even able to tell, if it is dark or not. This vast space before him seems infinite – surrounding everyone everywhere, trapping. Mile after mile, it’s only this, the painful movement forward, the cold wind blowing and his own agonized moaning.

When he finally wakes up from the nightmare, a lot of time he feels like paralyzed, even when he’s quite certain that he was thrashing a while before. Although when Le Vesconte reaches out to comfort him (already or still awake), he immediately leans into the touch and then buries his head in the crook of Henry’s neck. Sometimes James cries, sometimes not, just giving in to the paralysis again.

They watch another sunrise together, as light begins to seep through the curtains. Sometimes rest comes easier after that. And even when it does not, they can still slowly let the peace in with the first sounds of the birds’ singing outside, laughing quietly at the memory of a truly capital story it brings back.

Sometimes new, brighter colours start filling the infinite space.


	8. a time of miracles (in the end, we’ll agree, we’ll accept, we’ll immortalize)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> day 8: "a time of miracles"
> 
> Le Vesconte looked into Fitzjames’s eyes, realizing that James was speaking to him. Henry would follow him to the end of the world, but right now he had a hard time following whatever he was saying. Was he trying to get him to calm down? He seemed worried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title - And You And I by Yes
> 
> this is pretty much a continuation of my another fic "hatched by your warmth". reading it first would explain some stuff so it's advised but idk if absolutely necessary? do whatever you want. this has been collecting dust in my folder since like september and I decided to finish it up for Carnivale. enjoy this fluffy mess

The injury was dressed, not without Fitzjames’s complaining at every touch that was “too hard”. Le Vesconte was walking around the room until he’s been told to stop, because it was getting quite annoying.

\- Could you please explain, why are you looking at me like this? – said Fitzjames, after they were left alone.

\- How?

\- Oh, you know damn well how.

Henry took a deep breath. His heart was still beating definitely way too fast.

\- James  - he began unsurely, with a slight tremble in his voice – don’t you think, that maybe taking this animal on board wasn’t exactly the best idea?

\- Oh come on, what happened, happened. There’s no point in losing your mind over this now.

\- But…

\- And beside that, I recall that you didn’t mind it at all before.

\- Please, don’t interrupt me now – he said as calmly as he could, and added – I didn’t mean to lecture you, damn it, it wasn’t supposed to sound like that. I’m just worried because something happened to you and I know it’s not the first and probably not the last time, but I can’t stop panicking because I can’t stop thinking about it!

Le Vesconte stopped there, having no idea what else to say in this situation. He was hyperventilating, trying to calm himself down with no success. He felt disorientated by all this panic. James was hurt. Because the cheetah attacked him. And what were they supposed to do with this cheetah now anyway? He was aware of the fact that being upset at the animal itself too was irrational. Hell, all of this was irrational.

(Damn it, James was hurt again.)

* * *

 

Meanwhile Fitzjames was looking at him with concern at the man in front of him, who was almost shaking from this nervousness, and all because he cared for James so much. Henry meant a lot to him, both as a trusted coworker and as a close friend, and deep inside he felt that Henry might even be something more than that to him, because he couldn’t think of a person who would be more dear to him. He loved their frequent friendly banter, but even more he treasured Henry’s feelings. Shouldn’t he help him regain his composure? How? Repeating, that everything was all right was what put them in this situation in the first place.

And so Fitzjames walked up to Le Vesconte, sat next to him and took his hands into his own. He wasn’t sure if this was a good idea, since he vaguely remembered his friend reacting quite queerly to the touch, like during the celebrating of James’s promotion for Clio’s captain. In the end he decided to try.

\- Please, look at me. Just… just breathe, alright?

* * *

 

Le Vesconte looked into Fitzjames’s eyes, realizing that James was speaking to him. Henry would follow him to the end of the world, but right now he had a hard time following whatever he was saying. Was he trying to get him to calm down? He seemed worried.

There was certain warmth in James’s gaze, delicate like a flame of a candle, but still enough to make everything seem brighter and clearer. There was some strange kind of intimacy to this. Henry still wasn’t completely used to it, but it also wasn’t foreign to him – he recalled small moments that could be compared to baring your whole soul. And this type of comfort and safety in his case was always related with the same person.

It was kind of funny to him, how much his mood was affected always by the same reason.

\- I love you – he blurted out – I really do love you, James.

With these words, the his emotional mess somehow was gone. Once again he took a deep breath. Ah. So that was it. He decide that for a while, he will let himself not to think about any consequences of letting it all out. He used to create many different scenarios, about how he is going to confess desiring something more than just friendship, and predicted many different outcomes. However now, when the time has come to confront them, he couldn’t think of anything. Only the beating of his heart seemed to fill the silence.

Out of sudden Fitzjames leaned closer and brought his hand to Le Vesconte’s cheek. Henry understood fully what was happening only when James was already kissing him. Lightly and quickly, but it was enough for Henry to open the door for euphoria coming from sudden realization of having his feelings returned. He kissed back, this time more confident, proper and deeper. When it was over and they looked at each other, not really knowing what to do now, James gave him a reassuring smile.

Then Henry took him into him into his arms, careful not to mess up the dressing and rest his head in the crook of James’s neck, and later felt James embracing him too. They remained like that for some time, and finally had time to say oud loud everything about what has built up in their hearts over all this time.

* * *

 

All of this seemed so good, that even slightly overwhelming, but not in the same way as the stress caused by Le Vesconte’s dilemma. Now he just felt like some impossible to comprehend miracle had just happened.

Surrounded by James’s warmth, he was calming down and starting to drift off, exhausted by previous worries. Now breathing evenly, he closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, he was still in James’s arms. With head leaning against his chest, Henry could feel his heartbeat. He would have nodded off again, when he had suddenly realized that they weren’t in the sickbay anymore. Moreover, they were moving, all while James was still holding him tightly.

\- What is… What are you doing? James, in your state you shouldn’t…

Fitzjames only laughed at that. Le Vesconte continued to complained.

\- Really, couldn’t you just wake me up? Please explain, why the hell did you think that _carrying me_ when you’re hurt was a reasonable option? Hey!

They lay down facing each other, as comfortably as they could on the berth that seemed probably too small even for one person alone. James assured Henry several times that yes, he’s good like that and yes, he’s certain that the dressing on his injury will be fine too. He blew off the candles, and when his companion fell asleep again, he remained awake for a while, listening to his calm breathing. Then he leaned closer and kissed him lightly one more time, which didn’t make Le Vesconte stir, but just mumble something incoherent. Fitzjames smiled to himself. Soon, he was sleeping too.

* * *

 

In the morning Henry woke up to find James sprawled on the top of him. Being trapped like this was hardly the most comfortable position, but he decided that in the end he didn’t really mind.

\- You’re really content like that, aren’t you? – he said, while running his fingers through James’s hair – Hmm, but maybe I shouldn’t complain though, since this is your bed anyway – he sighed.

Only quiet snoring answered him. Henry smiled and closed his eyes again. They would probably have to be getting up soon, but for now he just let himself enjoy the moment.

He thought about the events of the previous evening, and what will all of this make of their future. Before them appeared new possibilities of nurturing something that has already been between them for some time, but also of creating something new. A chance for new miracles, made out of the same heartbeat.


	9. by candlelight (my reflection in the snow covered hills)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> day 9: "by candlelight"
> 
> But right now he didn’t know how else should he call the way James looked surrounded by this faint, gentle glow and with a relaxed smile on his face, other than simply beautiful. He found this scene almost heavenly – the way everything around them was shining so softly made the image of bright flames slowly fade away, for this moment at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title - Landslide by Stevie Nicks

The Carnivale, Le Vesconte

Hues of red and orange danced all around them, tearing up the night, lighting up a horrified surprise on the faces. And when the fire died out, the ever present cold let itself be known again, with no sympathy for those observing the smoke against the sky.

Le Vesconte saw how Crozier unsuccessfully tried to get Fitzjames to take a break. He understood the other man’s devastation, he remember seeing his joy shift into guilt and regret as the situation worsened. Yet he knew that Terror’s captain was right – it would be better for James to rest, otherwise the blame that he put on himself and that had already taken its toll on him might eventually overcome him.

When passing Crozier, Henry shared an understanding glance with him. There were hardly any reasons to be happy now, but he tried to muster up a smile too. Because it was actually good to witness such a scene, to know that he’s not alone in wanting to support James. This fact greatly reassured him that the effort will not be fruitless.

He crouched next to Fitzjames, who was still kind of detached from the living world in his work, and patiently waited until his lover looked at him, while joining in to help with identifying the bodies too. It didn’t happen right away, but when their eyes met, he took James’s hand and gradually helped him up.

* * *

 

Fort Resolution, Fitzjames

When Fitzjames opened his eyes, it felt like the strangest déjà vu. The dull pain he felt was even in exactly the same places as when he woke up after a different near death experience years before. Only the chill in the room reminded him, that this was not a medical tent somewhere in China.

Everything was shrouded in soft candlelight, mirroring the sleepy atmosphere. He blearily looked at Le Vesconte, who has been sitting on a chair next to his bed. It appeared as if he was on the verge of nodding off, but he must have noticed that James came round because his back immediately straightened, bright smile spread across his face and eyes started gleaming with joy. His lips parted, as if he wanted to say something, but in the end it seemed like he couldn’t find words. He just shakily breathed in and out, and reached for Fitzjames’s hand with his.

James’s strength was still scarce and as much as he wanted to respond and tightly intertwine their fingers, all he was able to do was to brush his thumb lightly against Henry’s palm. But the hint was taken, and Le Vesconte held onto him firmly.

It might have not been much, but in that moment to them  it was everything.

* * *

 

England, Le Vesconte

\- James, this looks outrageous.

\- So you don’t want it?

\- Have you lost your mind? Of course I do. I’d take ten of those if I could.

Visiting the tailor was Fitzjames’s idea and upon hearing it Le Vesconte at first didn’t like thinking about going outside too much, since it was cold there and he was quite comfortable in front of the fireplace. But soon he found himself rushing to help James get ready, because he had to make sure that his partner was dressed appropriately for the weather (“Thank you but I think I will be fine” “Nonsense, what if you get cold? Here, take this”).

Both of them still had vivid memories of much worse temperatures than that of English winter, but while knowing that he can endure much worse made James care less about this “slight chill”, as he called it; Henry flinched at the mere mention of the word “frost”, as his mind jumped from this to “frostbite” immediately. Not to mention that his tendency to worry for his lover hasn’t lessened over the time at all.

And yet there was hardly any possibility for him to completely oppose James’s plans. Later he didn’t mind taking a short walk when they were done for the day before finally heading back home too.

I was already dark outside. Snowflakes were twirling around in the air, illuminated by the light of the street lamps. If someone asked Henry back there in the Arctic if he’ll ever be able to admire a wintry view like this again, the answer would probably be negative, especially after the Carnivale’s sudden fire lit up the darkness. But right now he didn’t know how else should he call the way James looked surrounded by this faint, gentle glow and with a relaxed smile on his face, other than simply beautiful. He found this scene almost heavenly – the way everything around them was shining so softly made the image of bright flames slowly fade away, for this moment at least.

To be honest, he didn’t realize when they started walking hand in hand.


	10. in hot water (chill wind blowing in my soul)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> day 10: "in hot water"
> 
> James eased into the bath with a content sigh. The precious luxury of feeling the relaxing warmth of water against his skin had been denied to him for too long, and now he gladly welcomed it back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title - Wots... Uh The Deal by Pink Floyd

James eased into the bath with a content sigh. The precious luxury of feeling the relaxing warmth of water against his skin had been denied to him for too long, and now he gladly welcomed it back. Henry joined him and they were sitting there together, not saying a word, when James noticed that the other hadn’t let go of his hand since he helped him get inside. He observed, as Henry’s fingers slowly moved up his own arm with a feather-like, light touch, until halting at the scar left by the disastrous wound. And then Le Vesconte leaned closer to plant a small kiss on it.

James smiled fondly, remembering all the times when they were like this before, with nothing between them when they let the remnants of the past be healed with love and pleasure. Old marks now carried much more with them and stung with the cold of arctic wind blow that chilled them to the core, and perhaps much more time was needed for their minds and bodies to be completely free of it. But step by step, they’d get there.

He sighed again, when Le Vesconte continued, and marveled at the sweet view and the touch that made him feel alive.

He really couldn’t ever feel better than with Henry’s at his side – for many, many reasons, from always having his support to being able to admire the lovely features and touch his soft silver hair, which reminded him of holding a star that fell from the sky. Though no precious silver, or any other riches of this world, or any shooting star on the sky could ever be worth more than every single moment filled with this warm love they shared.


	11. a long winter’s night (disturbing the waters of our lives)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> day 11: "a long winter's night"
> 
> (Also, wasn’t Jopson sent away to rest just a while before?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title - Take a pebble by Emerson, Lake & Palmer

The howling of the wind that could still be heard from the outside, combined with the creaking of the ship somehow just enhanced the silence on the corridors. Made it more deafening, and chilling to the bone, tiring those who were working so hard to help each other survive these deadly quiet days that seemed to never end.

Little passed Jopson on the way from the captain’s cabin. It would be hard to him not to notice that something about the steward was off – and this couldn’t be put more lightly, since the man walked with his eyes almost closed and with dark circles under them. Edward remembered their usual icy-blue shine, that was now hidden like waters of the ocean covered by a cloak of a starless night. He thought of this sight that a lot of time for some reason tended to warm his heart, and now missing it was added to many other worries (concerning Thomas or not, there were many of both).

(Also, wasn’t Jopson sent away to rest just a while before?)

His pace was less steady than normally too and his movement a bit swayed. Little greatly admired Jopson’s dedication to his duties, but now it was pretty much impossible not to be worried for him. Not letting himself dwell on this for too long, he went on to approach the steward, who probably only now noticed that he was there.

His face seemed to light up for a short while and he offered a slight smile with a faint note of apology in it.

\- Lieutenant – he said, his voice barely audible in its tiredness.

\- Thomas, please. I told you before that  you’re absolutely free to use my Christian name – said Little, not having much energy for keeping up with the decorum in this moment – There’s nobody beside us here anyway.

\- Oh. I’m, I’m sorry. Yes, of course – Jopson answered somehow unsurely.

\- Oh, and while we’re at it, please come with me to my room. I need to discuss something with you.

\- Ehm, yes sir, Edward, that is. I’m afraid I don’t have too much time, though. I’ll have to go back to the captain soon.

\- Don’t worry, doctor McDonald is with him now, don’t you remember?

\- Ah, yes. Yes, of course I do. He brought something for captain Crozier, to lessen his pain, is that right? But I’m not sure if I remember him giving it?

\- Yes, he did give it to him. Again, you need not worry.

Little urged Jopson to sit down on his own berth as soon as they stepped inside his room. He was really hoping that he wasn’t overstepping any boundaries here, because while his concern for Thomas was sincere, he still had the utmost respect for him.

Yet, Jopson didn’t resist. He said nothing and just glanced at Little from time to time, as if asking silently “So? When are you going to tell me for what did you bring me here?” to which the lieutenant answered with a gesture of a slightly raised hand, as in “Just a moment” . And so a moment passed and Thomas’s eyes soon were closed. Edward waited a while more, then checked if the other man was already asleep and when he was sure of it, moved him gently so he would lay down on the berth and covered him with a blanket.

Leaving the room, he let himself look at Jopson one more time, and carried on with his duties.

**Author's Note:**

> pyotr-verkhovensky.tumblr.com


End file.
